


The cabin in the snow

by Rased



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Pack Street Fanverse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rased/pseuds/Rased
Summary: Join Remmy and Betty on a comfy evening in a cabin during winter.





	The cabin in the snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PseudoFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PseudoFox/gifts).



> Secret Santa gift for PseudoFox
> 
> Disclaimer: Betty and Remmy are from Pack Street by TGWeaver and this story is probably not canon.

 

The chattering of teeth and the soft crunching of fresh snow accompanied Remmy on his way to the lone cabin.  _Who would have thought there would be snow in February_ , he scolded himself, s _hould have worn the thick coat after all_ .

 

The woods were peaceful, vast and empty as they were. The pine trees, surrounding him, standing tall and proud. The silence was only broken by the whispering howl of the wind. The sun was beginning to set and if he dawdled, he would have to make the trek in the cold and unforgiving darkness of the mountains.

 

And he would keep the wolfen waiting. Making the wolfen wait never boded well for the ram. He involuntarily shuddered under his red jacket.

 

His hooves gripped the straps of his filled backpack tighter,  _that is the graver problem_ , he decided while nodding to himself and trudged on through the ever persistent deep snow.

 

Remmy had set out this morning to get some needed supplies for their vacation in the cabin, but ill weather and his very own hooves hat sabotaged the trip. Sheep simply weren't made for weather like this. Yet his machismo had demanded he went and his partner remained in the comfy warmth of their abode.

 

The thought brought a faint smile and tenderness upon him, satisfying the primitive, primal part of his brain that had not caught up with the 21 st century. He knew that he would perform such a stunt, again and again, all in the knowledge that it made his partner smile. 

 

His steps carried him across the small wooden  b ridge, spanning across a now frozen river, tranquil and serene, untouched by anything but nature herself.

 

The pine trees started to be replaced by oaks, old and unbent in their silent rest. These were aged trees, that had seen generations and generations of mammals walk the earth and they would yet see many more pass. The sheep's musings were disturbed by the smell of a chimney.

 

_Not far now, just a couple more minutes._

 

Snow began to fall again,  _of course._ Soon visibility would be so bad, that a safe return to the cabin would be questionable. 

 

He recognized the tree on his left; last summer he had attempted to carve their initials into its trunk, before a very bemused timber wolf had taken over with her claws, a frightening and yet oh so exciting display.

 

_B+R_

 

He could feel warmth spreading through him, as he remembered that evening, the hike, a small campfire, roasting marshmallows (to her unending amusement due to his unfortunate nickname– cannibalism, she had called it. Marshmallow-on-marshmallow-violence), stargazing, their first kiss under the moons silent vigil (okay, he had made that one up– their first kiss was in the shitty movie theater near Packstreet). A whole barrel of fond memories.

 

Finally, with the suns final rays of light, he could see the cabin. An old thing, self-built by Betty's forefather's forefather- or so she told. It huddled against the mountainside, gazing proudly upon the big lake. It wasn't large or fancy, but robust and well maintained. Roughly eight by five meters of wooden house. More than enough for the two of them. The Windows were illuminated by firelight and he could see thick, black snakes of smoke coming out of the chimney.

 

His final approach carried him across the shores of the lake, the sun going down across it. A majestic view was granted to him, the snow on the lake being bathed in dying orange, yellow and red, reflecting on mirrored ice, wherever the wind had blown the snow away. Small pockets of the white powder building strange statues on the seemingly endless ice, some only existing for mere moments before being carried away again by the wind, to be formed into something new.

 

He slowed his steps in the face of that raw and untouched beauty laid bare for him.  _Almost a match for her, almost,_ he finally decided with a smile, before continuing his walk.  _Not gonna tell her something this hopelessly romantic and cliche,_ he added silently.

 

He checked his precious cargo: smokes, booze, ground bug meat, and various vegetables. Everything that they decided would be essential.

 

The door was now before him; like the dwelling it was built into, it was made to withstand the elements and the occasional vagrant.

 

**Knock-knock**

 

“'That you yarn-ball? Get in!” came the gruff voice of his girlfriend from within.

 

_ Girlfriend, _ he grinned to himself _ , I like that. _

 

Giving a small bleat of affirmation, he stomped his hooves and fleece free of snow and entered the cabin.

 

"If it isn't lil' Red Riding Hood!" the big timber wolf said in her saccharine voice while laying on the couch in front of the fireplace. In her underwear. In her white lace-underwear.

 

Words failed the hapless sheep, as did his legs, stopping him in his tracks. He could feel his brain shut-off, as he stared.

 

His gaze wandered across her luscious body. Starting at her foot-paws, more dexterous than his hooves and well adapted to the colds they were currently facing. His eyes wandered higher, across her toned and well-trained legs, her silky, black pelt twinkling in the firelight and to the crested lace-panties. They really did bring out her lush hips, without giving too much away and reflected the firelight as though they were made of silver.

 

The ram didn't stop there. Instead, he continued across her belly, the winter pelt really made her ridiculously fluffy. He would like nothing more than to sink his hooves in there.

 

And he would. After he was done ogling.

 

Her bra matched the panties in its embroidery, hiding her large chest from his now very hungry eyes. Then came her long, glorious neck and finally Betty's loving face, currently smirking at him; one of her ears was as always slightly crooked, one day he would ask, her what was up with that.

 

The impulse to answer in kind was overwhelming, as it was stupid. Remmy was very talented in saying stupid stuff, but it all worked out in the end, so why stop now?

 

"Grandmother, what big arms you have!" he said in his attempt at a soprano voice, whilst setting down his pack.

 

“All the better to hug you with, now shut up and get over here!” she woofed out between laughs.

 

Remmy chuckled as he obeyed the big bad wolf. The backpack had to go, as did his jacket, unpacking was future-Remmy's task. Relaxed steps took him to the waiting wolfen, lighted only by fire. Her eyes were striking as ever, ember colored as they were; shining like well-aged cognac in the firelight. Remmy could drown in those spheres, deep and promising, warm and understanding, sometimes harsh and unforgiving, like their owner.

 

He joined her on the old couch, the synth leather creaking in protest of the added weight.

 

_ Her scent, oh gods, her scent. _ It hit him now, like a Nascar car a solid brick wall. A heady smell, one of safety and love. Of trees and moss. And musk, of course, the need for passion. 

 

She opened her arms in invitation and he accepted all too willingly. His hooves explored her body, as her counterparts wiggled under his shirt and into his wool. Two snouts found one another in a passionate, needy kiss. Her body felt almost sweltering against him; her stomach lined with hard, wire-like muscles. Her maw opened slightly, and he followed suit; their tongues deepened the kiss.

 

Hers was a long beast, but not nearly as well muscled as Remmy's. He managed to hold his own if just barely before both had to release in order to breathe, strands of saliva connecting them lewdly.

 

“You've **huff** become good at this” the timber wolf huffed between yaps.

 

Remmy decided to up the ante. The searching hoof found the sweet spot. Just below her lowest rip; slightly off-center.

 

A smug grin manifested upon his hard breathing visage, as the thumping evidence of this small victory became evident. Seeing her thump her leg and wag her tail never failed to amuse him.

 

“BeComINg OverConfidenT, are We?” she managed to push out; before Betty pounced an alarmingly bleating Remmy.

 

She silenced him by pushing her tongue deeply into his maw. The position of power and the element of surprise made resistance futile. She was almost in his throat, probing his teeth with the big muscly appendage, before retreating a bit to wrestle with his counterpart.

 

The dance is a slow one now, each mammal caressed the other with relish, enjoying the multitude of sensations. Her glorious pelt just begged to be pet and there really was no reason not to.

 

Eventually, they rid themselves of the last of their clothing.

 

* * *

 

 

Fuzzy warmth covered him completely, like a blanket. A very living, and cutely snoring blanket.  _ That sound is too cute, for such a large girl, _ he mused idly.

 

His hoof gently stroked the  small of her back, while he watched his lover sleep peacefully. Eventually, he'd have to get up and stow the backpack's contents.  _ And make dinner _ , he added after his belly rumbled.

 

But for now, he'd enjoy the shared comfort, the calming crackling of the fire and the blazing love he felt for Betty.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this work!
> 
> Kudos and Comments are welcome!


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